The Shooting Star That Fell [UNFINISHED]

escape

Falcon stared at her, puzzled. "What's wrong?" he mewed, padding over to her. As he neared, he could clearly see Moss trembling, her already tiny body suddenly looking frail and vulnerable.

Moss's gaze rested on him for a heartbeat, then drifted behind him. There was an opening in the barn wall, where most of the wooden boards had rotted away, leaving a jagged hole just wide enough for a couple of cats to poke their heads through. The wall faced the east side, where the mountains began to ascend in their deep gray foreboding slopes, after the endless carpet of golden wheat fields and starry skies. Falcon often found himself at this opening, which is what Hawk called "The Lookout", staring into the distant mountain ranges and conjuring up all sorts of adventures in his head.

Falcon turned to see what Moss was staring at. Night, still panting from their earlier fight, did the same. The three of them padded towards the opening—cautiously, slowly—as if anticipating something dangerous lurking outside.

"What?" Night whispered, craning his head as all three of them fought to get a view of the landscape. "I don't see anything."

Falcon scanned the horizon, attempting to pick out something out of the ordinary. He saw the fields, the mountains, the rooftops of human houses that were situated farther out from the town center, but nothing he considered strange.

His eyes wandered to the moon, glowing along the mountaintops, casting its long silver shadows along the land beneath it. His mother's words drifted back to him.

"If for some reason I do not come back when the moon is highest in the sky, you will leave the barn."

"Find the fence," Falcon murmured to himself, and for the first time ever he noticed it. A thin strand running along the horizon like spider-silk, flashing and gleaming in the moonlight like fish-scales.

And then he saw something that made the blood rush to his ears.

"There!" Falcon hissed, thrusting his head out of the opening as far as it would allow.

A row of tiny, flickering lights dotted the horizon alongside the posts of the fence thing. They looked almost like the light that came from human houses, but smaller, barely visible, but still there.

Falcon felt Night bristle next to him. "There's smoke. It looks like fire," he muttered under his breath. "But it's too small to be a real fire."

"I can't see anything," Moss whined into Falcon's ear.

Falcon narrowed his eyes, and concentrated. He told his mind to focus on the lights, told it to bring the image closer to his eyes... The shadowy, moonlight world blurred away and his vision seemed to zoom in dizzyingly fast. He saw a row of cats. Lean, muscular, thick-pelted cats that were far different in shape and form from the Hawk cats he was familiar with. Cliffside cats!

He swallowed, digging his claws into the ground. And what were they holding in their mouths?

"Cliffside cats," he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut, willing his vision to become clear again.

"What?" Night sounded shocked beyond belief.

"I think they're going to attack," Falcon whispered, feeling his stomach flop again.

"I see them!" Moss squealed, raising her head. "They're coming closer!"

Falcon backed away from the Lookout and shot Night an anxious glance. Of all the times to attack! Did they somehow know that Hawk had left the barn unprotected tonight?

"It's okay," Night mewed to his sister reassuringly, stroking her shoulder with his tailtip. "They'll be discovered at any moment. We'll be safe here in the barn."